


'Does the Carpet Match the Drapes?'

by ronans



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Hair Dyeing, I really don't know, M/M, Pet Names, Slight fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:15:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey doesn’t realise Ian’s hatred of pet names until it literally slams him in the… hair. He should probably look into maybe becoming a lighter sleeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Does the Carpet Match the Drapes?'

**Author's Note:**

> Spawned from my own aversion to pet names, me dyeing my hair… and also inebriation

Ian’s concluded that sleepy Mickey is adorable. Well, he’d figured it out long ago, but it just hits him again as Mickey walks into the kitchen, all grumpy and sleep ruffled.

‘I swear to fucking god you two have no consideration for people who don’t get up before fucking dawn.’

‘Sorry, old man,’ Mandy responds, smirking at her brother before taking a large sip of coffee.

He lifts his middle finger up and her and then walks further into the room, brushing his hand along Ian’s shoulders as he passes. Ian smiles at the contact and grabs Mickey’s wrist before he can go any further.

Mickey huffs out a breath and cocks an eyebrow. He’d look irritated to anyone but Ian. ‘What?’

‘You busy today?’ Ian asks, playing with Mickey’s fingers as the other man looks at him like he’s the weirdest fucking thing in the world.

‘Nah, I just came in here to tell you two to keep it the fuck down.’

‘Jeez, you really do hate happiness,’ Mandy says.

‘Nope, just hate waking up before noon, bitch. I’m goin’ back to bed. Later, firecrotch.’

‘Later…’ Ian replies, scrunching his nose. As soon as they hear the bedroom door slam shut, Mandy snorts and beams over at Ian. ‘Shut up.’

‘Has he seriously not noticed your grimace every fucking time he says shit like that?’

Ian groans and lowers his head to the breakfast table. ‘I love him, but he’s oblivious.’

Mandy rolls her eyes and pats Ian head, starting out brisk before slowing down her petting. Ian frowns and sits back up, looking over confusedly at Mandy’s suddenly impish smile.

‘What?’

‘ _Ian_ , I just had the best fucking idea ever.’

‘Oh no. There’s no way-‘

Mandy places her hand over Ian’s mouth to shut him up. ‘I’m not talking about _that_ , Ian. I’m talking about scaring the living shit out of my douchebag brother.’

Ian raises an eyebrow in interest and lowers Mandy’s hand from his face. ‘I’m listening.’

She grins and places her hands on the table, leaning forward in excitement. ‘So you know how Mickey’ll sleep through almost anything once he's fully asleep, right?’

‘Mhm.’

‘And you know all his stupid little names for you are to do with your hair? Firecrotch, sweet ginger fucking prince and all, right?’

‘He’s never called me his-‘

Mandy gestures loosely to cut him off. ‘That’s not the point.’

‘Okay, yeah, I’ve noticed.’ Ian’s starting to feel a little dubious about the “best fucking idea ever”.

‘I think we should take a trip to the Kash ‘N Grab to check out their bountiful supply of cheap ass toxic hair products.’

And then it hits him.

*

Mickey’s never been more grateful he hung a mirror on the back of his bedroom door because otherwise he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late and he was outside in public.

So now he’s seen it, his brain’s processed it, he’s allowed to question its presence. And also yell a little because _what the actual fuck, why is his hair ginger_.

‘ _Mandy! Ian!_ ’ Because like it was anyone else who did this.

He starts to breathe heavily and cautiously pinches a chunk of hair between his thumb and index finger, flinching away from the softness of it. After getting no response from anyone else in the house from his shouting, he yanks open the door and charges into the kitchen.

‘Does the carpet match the drapes?’ Ian asks immediately, all casual and smug, eyes full of devil-like amusement.

Mickey’s eyes go insanely wide, panic replacing anger, as he breathes out ‘What?’, swiftly pulling the front of his boxers out to check. Ian’s eyes bug and he nearly hits his head on the table his laughter’s so forceful. Mandy’s fucking gone, sounding like a damn seal.

‘Jesus Christ, no, oh my god, I wasn’t that fucking thorough,’ Ian manages to wheeze out.

Mickey scowls at his boyfriend and his sister and then reverts back to panic. ‘ _How the fuck did you even do this_?!’

Mandy’s still roaring with laughter and it’s so fucking infectious that Mickey’s almost cracking. But he holds out, thank fuck, he can’t imagine what he’d look like just breaking down laughing while looking like _this_.

‘You sleep like the dead, it was actually pretty easy.’

Mickey hides his face with his hands. ‘Oh my fucking god please don’t tell me this is permanent, you fucks, _please_.’

‘Nah, it’s fine, firecrotch, it’s semi-permanent. Actually surprised it came out this bright considering,’ Mandy says, her speech stilted from where she’s still cackling.

‘Oh so that’s what this is about? Why didn’t you just fucking tell me?’ Mickey directs at Ian. His eyes are still locked onto the top of Mickey’s head and he’s beaming like a maniac.

‘Because this way’s just so much more _fun_ , gingerbread.’

‘Oh my _god_.’ Mickey feels more than a little humiliated, so he decides to make the evil conspiring fuckers before him feel guilty as hell, really laying the sad tone on thick. ‘You don’t like me callin’ you that shit, fine. I’ll stop.’

Ian’s smile becomes more subdued and he gets up from his chair and crosses the floor to stand right in front of Mickey, cupping his cheek. ‘Come on, Mick, I didn’t mean to upset you. _We_ didn’t mean to upset you.’

Mickey rolls his eyes and jostles Ian’s shoulder playfully. ‘I know you fucking didn’t but, really, why?’ Mickey finally starts grinning, pointing at his head. Ian bites his lip through his own grin.

‘Yeah, gotta say I prefer you with dark hair.’

‘So you wanna make me hot again and get this shit out of my hair?’

‘You were never hot in the first place,’ Mandy murmurs from her new position on the couch, idly flicking through a magazine.

‘Shut up, Mandy,’ Ian and Mickey say in unison, causing the corners of her mouth to pull up.

‘28 washes, you think you can handle that?’ Ian asks, slipping his arms around Mickey’s waist.

‘Do we even have enough hot water and soap to do that in one go? If I have to fucking dye my hair again to get it back to how it was, you’re in serious shit.’

‘Duly noted.’ As they walk to the bathroom, Ian furrows his brow. ‘You seriously didn’t notice us covering your head in foil when you were unconscious?’

‘Shut the fuck up, Ian,’ Mickey chuckles, shoving the other man in the side lightly.

The nightmare unfortunately continues when Mickey rolls over in bed the next day (as a dark brunette once more) and instead of an eyeful of the ginger hair he’s normally greeted with in the morning, it’s fucking _purple_.

‘Ian!’ His fucking shoulder’s shaking with his silent fucking laughter so Mickey knows he’s already awake. ‘What the _fuck_.’

‘It’s hair chalk, relax,’ Ian chuckles as he rolls over to face Mickey, planting a kiss on his nose. While Mickey’s momentarily stunned, Ian takes the opportunity to, well, mourn the _lost_ opportunity. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t hold out and make you think this was permanent.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Careful with that attitude, Mick. I might experiment and see if you suit green hair next time.’

‘ _Holy fuck_.'

**Author's Note:**

> I am so so r r y


End file.
